


Insubordinate

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Spanking, Spanking, definitely edges on, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 20:57:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11540304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: "The young man shirked, and for a moment Jack wondered if he was gonna try to bolt like a frightened skag pup, but before he can even try Jack’s grabbing him by the stupid tie and dragging him back up to his chair. Rhys choked, nearly slipping and falling as he’s dragged along the steel floor. Jack turned on his heels and sat abruptly in his chair, yanking Rhys forward by the tie. The boy’s legs smacked into Jack’s knees, causing him to stumble forward and loose his balance as he landed with a pained oomph right over Jack’s lap."---Rhys disobeys a direct order from Jack and ends up being "punished" for it.





	Insubordinate

**Author's Note:**

> This was a gift for Sinesthero. They wanted Rhys being spanked by Jack and well....I had some fun with it. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

Jack paced about the hangar, rubber soles of his shoes screeching against the metal floor as he furiously waited for the shuttle retrieving Rhys to dock.

He could barely contain his anger at this point, rage starting to boil over even as he tried to stalk out the furious manic energy, stamping his feet like an angry toddler and forcing any organic workers in the hangar to give the CEO a wide berth lest they become the next target of his anger after the poor floor.

Jack might’ve welcomed some twerp getting in his way, though, to help him kill ( _hah_ ) the time until he could properly throttle Rhys for his ceaseless stupidity.

Maybe Rhys hadn’t disobeyed a direct order from Jack, but he had absolutely betrayed any faith that the CEO had had in his PA’s basic frikkin’ common sense. He knew Rhys could be impulsive at times, but buying two pairs of the same socks or booking Jack a vacation without combing through his schedule first was nothing compared to  _sneaking down on a highly dangerous mission to Pandora._

There was a reason that Jack kept Rhys far, far away from that hellhole, even if it meant going down to the surface himself in the boy’s stead. Jack knew for a fact that Rhys was too spoiled and soft to survive long in the world of skags and bandits and mercenaries, in a landscape splattered with blood and criss-crossed with tenuous alliances. The boy’s temperament was well-suited to the subtle, underhanded corporate scene of Hyperion, but Pandora was a far,  _far_  different beast, and if it were up to Jack Rhys would never set his pretty, heeled little boots down on the planet’s surface.

Well, screw Jack, apparently! Because the kid had ignored any scrap of self-preservation and snuck down on transport shuttling a scouting battalion to a newly charted area of Pandora. Jack had given his clearance for the mission the week before, eager to see if the new terrain could be mined for some badly needed raw materials. The battalion had been well-armed but disposable, and Jack had pushed the mission from his mind until the moment he’d gotten a stern ECHO from the team leader, reporting not only an ambush by Crimson Raiders but  _also_  a shaken stowaway.

Jack was pissed off enough that he was risking losing potential resources to the bad guys, but the idea that Rhys had put himself into danger on purpose made him frikkin’  _seethe_.

He let out an angry growl, reaching up and messing up his own hair, making himself look rather crazed. The hangar was practically deserted now, save for the remaining Loaders who were nice enough to take a couple of angry bullets from Jack’s pistol without so much as flinching from their duties.

It seemed like an eternity before the shuttle finally floated up to the dock. Jack could see it drift steadily closer through the large windows of the hangar, heard the mechanical clicks and hisses as the shuttle clicked into place. Despite his urge to keep on shooting things, Jack tucked his pistol away, tightly crossing his arms and rapping his foot against the floor as he waited for the dock doors to open.

The steel doors suddenly whirred, unlocked in a hiss of steam as the dark shapes of the remaining armored soldiers clunked out onto the ramp, two of them flanked the door and holding a stiff salute towards Jack. The CEO ignored them, his lip curling as he saw Rhys finally emerge from the transport.

The kid looked like a dazed, baby deer, stumbling on too-long legs with his arms wrapped around himself. As he was led down the ramp from the transport flanked by two armored guards, he accidentally glanced towards Jack before quickly hiding his face against his opposite shoulder and pointedly not looking at the older man. Jack felt his shoulders tense, eyes narrowing.

Oh hell no, he wasn’t just going to be disregarded that easily.

The armored guards didn’t bother resisting as Jack shoved them aside, eyes blazing and teeth set in a clenched bone-white as he grabbed Rhys by the front of his shirt, tugging sharply and nearly pulling Rhys off balance. He let out a yelp, arms uncoiling from around himself to brace against Jack’s torso. His eyes swung back to meet Jack’s unconsciously, only to again wilt underneath the CEO’s furious glare. The meek behavior was only making Jack angrier. Didn’t Rhys give a shit that he was almost killed from his own stupidity?

“We’re going. My office.  _Now_.” He released Rhys’ shirt only to grab his wrist, violently tugging the young man along with not another word spoken to the rest of his men. Jack’s brain was a seething pot of anger with a dash of relief and shaking fear, and he needed to do something with it before he exploded from the inside out.

Rhys let out little protesting whimpers as he was tugged along, forced to work his shaky legs against Jack’s furious pace. As soon as they’d entered Jack’s office proper the CEO had forced Rhys ahead of him, tossing him through the sleek metal doors before brushing past, stalking right up to his desk to look past the massive plate-glass windows that helmed the room.

His tense breath whistled through his teeth, jaw clenched in futilely repressed anger. He could hear Rhys awkwardly shuffling behind him, broken heels clicking against the steel of the floor. Every little sound only amplified Jack’s anger, until he gave up completely on trying to calm down.

“You _,_ ” he began, hands clenched behind him, gaze steely at the constancy of Elpis before him, marred only by the occasion drift of transport or satellite, “are a frikkin’  _moron_ , you know that?”

“Jack, I can explain—“

“Explain  _what_?” Jack exploded with a snarl, whirling around to glare at Rhys, who was caught with one foot up on the dais to Jack’s desk, hesitant. “How you snuck onto a mission you weren’t supposed to be within a hundred thousand miles of?  _Unarmed_  and without me knowing where the hell you were?”

“I—I wasn’t unarmed!” Rhys piped up, trying his defense, “I….I had a stun baton?”

“Oh, a stun baton, a stun baton! I didn’t know stun batons could deflect bullets, sweetheart!” Jack mocked, flapping his hands in the air. “Son of a taint, you didn’t even have a frikkin’ shield on you! Idiot!”

“Okay, it was stupid, I  _get it_ , Jack, you’re not my fucking dad!” Rhys snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. Jack’s eyes blazed at the insolence as he jabbed a finger towards his PA, lips curled in anger.

“I don’t think you  _do_  get it, if you  _did_  then we wouldn’t  _be_  here.”

Jack stared furiously at Rhys for a moment, meeting the young man’s petulant glare, challenging him. Rhys met him back firmly, lips set in an angry pout, but gradually he faltered, eyes falling to the surface of Jack’s desk. The CEO felt angry triumph pool in his chest, but it wasn’t nearly not enough to sate the growling, possessive beast inside him. It wasn’t enough to have Rhys implicitly realize how stupid he had been. What Jack needed was to really make the kid  _feel_  the price of his idiotic brush with death.

“In case you forgot, sweetheart, your life is  _mine_. You have your life because I tolerate your sass and bullshit and the only one who can take it from you is  _me_.” Jack spat, rounding around his desk and nearly pressing chest to chest with Rhys.

“Understand?”

The young man shirked, and for a moment Jack wondered if he was gonna try to bolt like a frightened skag pup, but before he can even try Jack’s grabbing him by the stupid tie and dragging him back up to his chair. Rhys choked, nearly slipping and falling as he’s dragged along the steel floor. Jack turned on his heels and sat abruptly in his chair, yanking Rhys forward by the tie. The boy’s legs smacked into Jack’s knees, causing him to stumble forward and loose his balance as he landed with a pained  _oomph_  right over Jack’s lap.

The CEO held Rhys in place as the young man struggled, trying to get off of Jack’s legs until he planted a hand over the back of Rhys’ neck, fingers biting into the loose skin at the nape. Rhys’ entire body tensed, his struggling stuttering to a stop. Jack could feel the heat of Rhys’ pulse throbbing in his skin, could feel the way his throat tightened as he swallowed roughly.  

“You know what’s gonna happen to you, don’t you?” Jack growled, his other hand smoothing down Rhys’ back, flattening his teal shirt against his spine. His eyes narrowed over the rusty blood stains splattered over the fabric, and as his hand cupped Rhys’ ass underneath his too-tight slacks, his gaze hardened.

Rhys let out a sudden yelp when Jack’s hand came down hard against his ass. The young man’s head jerked back, chin turning towards Jack in alarm only for the man’s hand to press harder against the back of Rhys’ neck as he smacked him again.

“This is what you get for putting your life in danger,” Jack snarled, hand spanking Rhys’ ass at the end of every word, the young man’s cries slowly melting together as Jack hit him harder, in more rapid succession. Rhys’ whole body jolted with each strike, embarrassed little whines breaking from his lips as he struggled to look to Jack out of the periphery of his eyes, already red and watery with pain.

The impact of his bare hand against Rhys’ clothed ass soon grew dull and unsatisfying, so Jack slid his hand underneath Rhys’ body, clumsily fiddling with his belt for a moment before growling in frustration and flipping the young man onto his back over his lap. Rhys cried out at the change of position, his face bright red and hair mussed as he looked up at Jack with pleading eyes. Jack ignored him, pressing one hand over Rhys’ throat while the other undoes his belt, pulling the tongue out of the buckle before tugging the entire belt out of the pant loops. Rhys wiggled, shifting against the uncomfortable bend in his spine over Jack’s lap.  

His little moans turned into a yelp as he was flipped back onto his belly, again presented over Jack’s lap as his pants and underwear are ripped down off his hips, exposing his pale ass to Jack’s steely gaze.  Rhys’ ass was cool from the circulating air of Jack’s office, skin prickling as his warm hand gave one cheek a firm grope.

Jack folded the belt over, passing it to his other hand as he stroked Rhys’ face with false sincerity, sneering at the sniveling way Rhys tried to kiss his fingers, to apologize in hope that Jack would show some restraint. Any shred of a prayer that Rhys had clung to was torn in half as Jack whipped the belt harshly right across Rhys’ ass, ripping a pained shriek from the young man’s throat.

Jack seized Rhys by the back of his stiff white collar this time, holding him in place as he smacked him hard with the belt. Rhys’ body jerked with each strike, legs kicking unconsciously as Jack beats his ass without mercy.

Jack can feel his heart pounding in his chest, blood pumping behind his eyes and into his tense smirk as he whipped Rhys completely undone on his lap. The young man’s fingers twitched and dug helplessly into Jack’s pantleg, grasping his calf as he struggled to keep his head upright. Every time Rhys tried to turn his head and look at him Jack shook him by the collar, his grip only tightening, strikes only getting more and more brutal.  

Bright red welts were starting to show up on Rhys’ ass as Jack smacked him, and despite Rhys’ agonized cries Jack could feel a stirring in his cock that sent a laugh—and maybe a twinge of arousal himself—through his body. Rhys’ cheeks were either red from crying or burning with humiliation, and while it’d be fun to exploit the young man’s unwitting arousal at a later time, Jack needed to make sure that his punishment really  _stuck_  with the kid.

Jack watched the back of Rhys’ head, steely eyes burning into the helpless young man as he blindly continued to thrash his rear.

“You know what I’ve seen, sweetheart? On Pandora”

He felt Rhys shake his head against his thigh after a moment. The young man tried to lift his head to look at Jack, but he presses a hand against the back of Rhys’ skull to keep him down, fingers digging into his scalp. He grabbed a fistful of Rhys’ hair as he lazily smacks his ass, criss-crossing rapid strikes over the warm flesh.

“Stiffs hit by launchers and popping like meat balloons. Eye squeezing outta skulls. People strung upside down in the sun, guts hanging out and being pecked at…stuff’s  _normal_  down there.” He let go of Rhys’ hair, letting the young man’s head fall back. Rhys nuzzled pathetically against Jack’s leg, hands clutching for purchase against his calf.

“You’re bawling your eyes out over a little punishment but I’ll tell ya. This is  _nothing_  compared to all that.” Jack snarled as he whipped Rhys particularly hard against the ass, the buckle biting against his skin. “ _Nothing_. You should be  _thanking_ me.”

“Y….Yes….sir….” Rhys whimpered wetly, tears dripping against Jack’s pant leg. Jack cracked the belt once across Rhys’ thighs before striking it quickly on his ass while the flesh’s still quivering.

“So? What do you say?”

Jack stayed his hand, the belt resting across Rhys’ rear as he listened to the young man’s quiet sniffles and moans. He raised his arm again, hefting the belt up as he waited on an answer.

“T….thank you….”

“Good boy.” Jack grinned, before bringing down the belt again.

Jack’s interest in the punishment began to wane as soon as Rhys stopped responding as quickly to the still-intense beating his ass was getting. Soon, the boy’s kicks grew less violent, his body trembled less, and little tears trickled from his sore, red eyes. Jack’s smacks grew fewer and less harsh, until he finally rested the now-warm leather belt against Rhys’ ass, noticing how the beaten skin barely twitched anymore even as the firm edge of the belt pressed against a throbbing welt. Jack, finally sated and bored with thrashing the young man any further, tossed the belt aside, letting it clatter against the steel floor as he slowly turned his yellow chair around to face the massive space window.

Jack’s eyes fell to take a full inventory of the damage he’d done to his PA. Rhys’ shirt was rucked up uncomfortably around his chest, his hair thoroughly mussed out of what had remained of his gelled up coif by Jack’s raking fingers. His ass was a mess of long, red welts, some spotted with blood. Already developing bruises scattered in dark pink splotches all over his formerly pristine skin. Jack felt satisfaction flood through him as he looked at the painting of wounds on his PA’s ass. No doubt it’d be a nice reminder for the kid every time he tried to sit down for the next week.

In fact, why not test it out right now?

Rhys let out an agonized choke as Jack yanked him up by the collar, shifting him to sit sideways in his lap. Rhys cried, nearly jumping out of Jack’s lap but the CEO held him firm, one arm wrapped tightly around his waist as the other steadied his thigh.

“Easy easy, precious, don’t go bolting off now. Pretty sure you couldn’t make it two feet without falling.” Jack pressed his lips against the side of Rhys’ neck, feeling the tremble of the boy’s sobs as he struggled to get comfortable with his wounded ass. Rhys eventually rested his head against Jack’s shoulder, his entire body shaking. He cried openly, tears rolling down his cheeks even as he tried to rub them out against the CEO’s jacket.

Satisfaction slowly crawled towards sympathy—or as much sympathy as someone like Handsome Jack can muster—as he calmly petted Rhys’ trembling form. He hushed Rhys’ softly, demeanor switched from the punitory anger that had been coursing through him earlier. The kid appeared to have learned his lesson, so the furious beast inside of the CEO had been calmed for the time being.

His hand drifted slowly up Rhys’ thigh, gradually cupping the young man’s bare cock. Rhys had softened a little bit, but there was still a stirring of hardness under his palm. He left his hand there, resting, not yet demanding anything more of Rhys other than his sniffling submission.

Jack was harder than ever, dick twitching with each little pained whine, but he tried to ignore it for the time being. At least until Rhys was calm enough for him to rub one out between his abused thighs.

Rhys’ breathing hitched against Jack’s neck, a pitiful mewl trickling from his lips every time Jack shifted slightly, changing the pressure on Rhys’ wounded behind. Jack clucked his tongue softly, shushing Rhys. He tilted his chin down, barely able to brush his lips against the top of Rhys’ head, taking a deep breath of Rhys’ scent, tinged with sweat and fear and relief.

“You know I don’t like to do that, kitten.” It was a lie, and Jack knew it, but it was what Rhys wanted to hear. Rhys nuzzled against Jack’s neck, pressing a placating kiss against his skin, and Jack allows it this time.

“S….Sorry…” Rhys managed, voice hiccuping gently with sobs as he pressed himself closer to Jack, craving the comfort that the capricious CEO seemed willing to give.

“Sorry what?” Jack’s fingers trailed up Rhys’ quaking belly, feeling the young man’s tingling skin flinch under his touch.

“S-Sorry….sir….for going on the mission…”

“And, and you’re not gonna do it again, are you pumpkin?” Jack said, voice high and condescending. He felt Rhys nod against his neck.

“No…”

“Good boy.” Jack patted Rhys’ thigh, eyebrow raising as the boy’s cock twitched at the compliment. Jack smirked as Rhys’ body shivered, fingers curling into the soft fabric of the CEO’s sweater. He moved his thumb and forefinger to curl around Rhys’ cock, cradling it in his warm palm. Jack nudged his nose against Rhys’ temple, tipping the young man’s face away from his throat, Rhys’ neck relaxing back against Jack’s shoulder. Rhys’ eyes looked up at Jack, and the older man could see the flash of arousal blooming through the cloud of wet pain still clinging to his lashes.

He slowly started to stroke Rhys’ cock, thumb rubbing against the head, feeling the first bead of precum swelling up at the tip. Jack held Rhys closer, his arm tightening around the young man’s waist as he leaned in, brushing his lips against Rhys’ tacky, still-wet cheek.

“Don’t forget. I’m the only one who’s allowed to make you hurt, sweetheart. Because unlike those bandit assholes who would skin you screaming and crying and make you into jerky, I prefer you alive.” Jack whispered, before pressing a firm, possessive kiss against Rhys’ lips.


End file.
